The Claws Of Sleep
by Jennistar1
Summary: Pellinor fic! Cadvan gets a nighttime visit - 'Everything he had done to build up his closeness with her would break, would be shattered, and he could do nothing about it.' Rated for safety, but no sex, just smut!
1. Chapter 1

**NB: PELLINOR FIC PPLE!! THAT MEANS IT ISN'T MINE!!**

**Also, I rated this to be safe: there is no sex, but there is smut. If you don't like M & C smut….(listens and hears only the howling wind)…Okay, go ahead and read!! :)**

**THE CLAWS OF SLEEP**

_Dreams are the claws of sleep; they snatch you in, they hold you tight and they never, never let go…_

Cadvan could feel that there was someone hovering over his bed before he even opened his eyes. He could taste their sweet breath as it tickled against his chin, and could hear the steady thump of their heart, so close to his. He opened his eyes abruptly and saw the blurred outline of a shadowy and very familiar figure before a pair of lips crashed down hotly onto his.

He froze for a moment, uncertain how to respond, whether to kiss back (and most of his mind was screaming at him to do), or to break away sharply, or to let himself be kissed and _then_ pull away, slowly, carefully, and say those lines, those lines that had been constantly running through his head, those lines that had cropped up in every scenario he had ever imagined: _I'm sorry, I'm sorry, but it can never be._

The lips pressed down on his more forcefully, making it harder to think – his desire was rising rapidly now, and if this kept going, he was going to lose his head completely –

_By the Light, this has to stop…_

He felt a pair of small, warm hands run down his chest, and instinctively broke away, taking his seducer by the shoulders and pulling them away from him.

"Maerad, _stop!_"

He saw her shadowy form pause, but she said nothing. He couldn't see her face in the darkness of the curtained room, and was uncertain how she had responded to him. Cursing inwardly, he reached inside his powers and brought a magelight into existence. It lit up the room instantly, throwing shadows into brightness and bringing the whole crazy world tumbling back into reality.

Cadvan, trapped in the bed, stared up at the Maerad crouching on top of him. He had expected to see emotion in her eyes: sadness, guilt, anger, confusion – they were all possible. What he hadn't expected to see was no emotion at all.

Nothing. No emotion. Just a blank expression and dull, glassy eyes hooded by heavy eyelids. She was looking at him, he thought numbly, but she wasn't _seeing _him. She simply hung over him and stared.

"Maerad?" he said uncertainly. "Are you all right?"

She did not respond to his voice. He noticed suddenly that she was in her nightgown, and a realisation struck him – she was _sleepwalking._

Or sleepseducing. Perhaps that was a better term, Cadvan thought ironically.

He looked her steadily in those unresponsive eyes.

"Can you hear me, Maerad?"

She did not even blink, although she did speak.

"I want you."

She leant closer and he could smell the scent of her hair – of herbs and wood-smoke and fresh air. It was more intoxicating than anything Cadvan had experienced yet, and he found himself leaning up towards her.

"I want you," she mumbled again, then kissed him, more gently this time, even tenderly. It was a cruel trick, Cadvan thought grimly, because when she was kissing him forcefully, he could remember that this was not Maerad, that she was asleep and did not know what she was doing. But when she kissed him like _this_…with tenderness, shyly, tentatively – well, it was much easier to imagine that she was kissing him because she truly wanted to. Because she truly desired him. Because she truly loved –

He shut off his final thought and sank back into the bed, pulling her gently down with him, his arms encircling her waist and keeping her safe whilst he once again examined all possibilities in his mind; it was very hard to do so when Maerad was lying on top of him and kissing him so lovingly, but he concentrated grimly. He could wake her up, but everyone knew that you should not wake up sleepwalkers – the shock could very well kill them. And he imagined that she would be pretty shocked to find herself lying in top of her teacher in his bed.

He could let her continue – which was the idea that most appealed to him just at this moment – but he knew that his guilt would take him over once he had done so. His conscience was too strong to allow him to do this; it was the typical struggle of gentleman against beast, of being tempted and resisting that temptation. He could _not _let himself take advantage of her – she wasn't in her right mind, she did not know what she was doing – of course she didn't, she would never do this is real life…

No. What he had to do was find a way to stop her without waking or hurting her. Perhaps if he –

But his thoughts froze there, because Maerad's kiss had just increased in intensity, and her hands were once again on his chest, moving slowly down, and he could think of nothing except how good it felt, and how he wanted _more_.

"Maerad…" he mumbled into her mouth, but it was clear that she was no longer paying any attention to what he said – her tongue slid naturally into his mouth, her body pressed against his, her legs glided alongside his too enticingly. The gentleman inside Cadvan clung on grimly, but the beast was taking the upper hand. He found himself reacting unconsciously to her, his hands on her waist, moving up and down her ribcage warmly, his body pressing against hers with equal urgency, his lips on fire. He felt her hands slide down to his thighs and let them, drawing her closer to him, his mouth straining against hers, knowing it was too late, far too late, that he had lost the battle, that he would have her now and would forever more be haunted by what he had done, guilt-stricken, shamed, utterly unworthy to be her teacher, to be her friend, to have her trust…

Everything he had done to build up his closeness with her would break, would be shattered, and he could do nothing about it.

And then she sighed. It was a little sigh, a whisper of a sigh, a little murmur of happiness, but it struck within Cadvan forcibly - because it was one of the noises she made when she was deeply asleep and dreaming some wonderful dream. He heard it sometimes when they were in the wilderness, and she was asleep whilst he was on guard. It was an innocent sound, the sound of the child Maerad as opposed to the woman, and it stopped him dead in his tracks.

_I can't do this._

He moved away from the distracting press of her body, and guided her hands back up to his shoulders, to a safe place. He could feel himself shaking with desire, and saw that she was too, and that there was lust inside those blank eyes as well as the vague dreaminess, but forced himself to stop seeing these things, to stop thinking of them.

"Maerad," he said gently. "You must sleep now. Time to sleep."

He spoke as one would to a child, hoping that it would get through to her on an unconscious level, and it did. Maerad blinked sleepily, still unfocused, then mumbled,

"'m tired."

"Then sleep," he urged, still soft-voiced. "I'm here, I'll take care of you. Sleep."

Gradually, she relaxed her body and drooped into his waiting arms. He settled her gently down next to him, and smoothed back her hair, murmuring silly, soft nonsense just as if he were soothing a child, and eventually her eyelids fluttered closed and she sighed, drifting away on the next black wave of sleep, her body limp and thankfully harmless.

Cadvan waited for a moment to make sure she was asleep properly, then groaned with both relief and annoyance that she was, and flung himself on the other side of the bed, staring up at the dimly lit ceiling blankly.

He had almost done it. He had almost allowed himself to –

_What a fool, _he scolded himself. _What a foolish man you are. Taking advantage of a young woman who isn't in her right mind, how low can you sink? You don't deserve her trust. You are no better than a dirty old man, Cadvan of Lirigon, a dirty old man who has gone without desire for far too long. Desperate – yes – you are desperate. That's why you did it. Desperation, a burning need for affection. You would have done the same with anyone, whoever they were. Because you are lonely and stupid, and very, very pathetic._

_It has nothing to do with Maerad. It _doesn't_. It had nothing to do with the fact that you care for her more than anyone else in this world, nothing to do with the fact that you would die for her, without a moment's hesitation, without a single thought for yourself, nothing to do with the face that you completely and utterly love –_

_NO!_

He flinched away physically from the thought, and found himself staring along the pillows to where Maerad lay, her face innocent in sleep, her breath fluttering a few strands of hair that had fallen over her shut eyes. Automatically, he reached forward and swept the strands out of her face.

_I am such a fool, _he thought, but wearily now. _I do love her. I love her so much – and yet I almost betrayed her trust._

He withdrew his hand and looked back up at the ceiling.

_Well, it won't happen again._

He moved his hand to the magelight, about to extinguish it – and then Maerad spoke.

One word, she said, just one word, escaping her as she lay twisted in the claws of sleep. Just a name, nothing more, and yet Cadvan felt as though someone had punched him in the face, as though all the oxygen in the room had fled through the windows, as though all that was precious to him, all that he cared about, all that he had ever believed in had just been proved wrong, had been a lie, and had always been a lie, and that he had been fantastically deceived for the entire time. Just one word, and he felt as though Fate had spat in his face.

"Arkan!"

_Arkan._

_The Winterking._

_Of course._

She had not been thinking of Cadvan. She had not been dreaming of Cadvan. That entire episode, that entire struggle, and it had nothing to do with him. Just Arkan. Always Arkan.

And he had thought…that she…loved…felt…

_You are a fool._

Well, it was lucky, then, that he had done nothing after all. He turned out the magelight, and the world fell into deep darkness, and he lay and stared into its opaque blackness for a very long time.

* * *

Maerad awoke the next morning to find herself lying alone in Cadvan's bed, with no idea how she had got there. She felt more exhausted, somehow, then she had when she had gone to bed the previous night, her body felt drained, as if she had been fighting something for hours on end.

Groaning, she twisted onto her back and swept her hair out of her eyes – and abruptly her dream flooded back to her.

She had dreamed that she had gone to visit Cadvan in his room, and that they had – she had –

_By the Light! _she thought in shock. _I dreamed of kissing him!_

The thought shot a bolt through her like electricity, but it was not a bad feeling.

But then…there had been more to the dream. Something had happened – she couldn't remember exactly what – but Cadvan's lips had turned into Arkan's and she had found herself kissing _him._

But it had not been the same. His lips had been too cold, too dangerous, too distant, too lustful. There had been no intimacy in his kiss, not like Cadvan's…and Cadvan's had felt more _real _somehow, as if she had done it before and knew exactly what it felt like.

So she had tried to pull away, and he had grasped her and laughed, and said that she was his, that she could not be free and never would be, and that Cadvan loved her but knew she desired the Winterking more, and had left her…and she had denied it all, saying that he was lying, that she loved Cadvan, she did, she _did_…and she had shouted Arkan's name. In fury, not in lust.

And then had woken here, in Cadvan's bed and totally alone. He had left her alone, even though she was _here_, in _his_ bed, and not with Arkan…not with anyone else…she had been with _him_.

And he had left her, just like in the dream.

It was just a dream, she thought furiously, pummelling the pillows to put them back into shape, then falling into them. Just a silly dream. No harm ever came out of having a dream.

No harm at all.

**END**

* * *

**Please R & R, and if enough people do and tell me they liked it (or give me criticism – whatever, I don't mind), I may write a PROPER M fic!! Wouldn't that be fun? ;)**

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

**NB: This was going to be a one-shot, but so many people requested a second chapter that I had to oblige! Here it is! Enjoy! They're not my characters! Weep!**

Cadvan knew he was in trouble now. _Now_ he was in trouble. He had a plate - a whole _plate_ – loaded with friend mushrooms, soaking in a pool of melted butter, and he was totally unable to eat a…single…one. He just sat, staring at the soggy brown mound before him, the delicious scent of butter, of soil simmered in sunshine wafting before him but doing nothing to tempt him. He miserably poked at a few of his victims with his fork, before giving up entirely and abruptly pushing his plate away from him.

And then he could do nothing but sit and stare out of the dining room window at the grey day outside and curse inwardly. He was going to be useless all day now, he knew it. He was going to be trapped in that previous night all the day after, imagining that silken darkness, her mouth on his –

No. No. Not on his. Not for her. On _Arkan's._

He stared down at his mushrooms and – for the first time in his life – felt sick at the sight of them. This, he decided, was very bad indeed.

Then the dining room door opened with a click, and he glanced up and met Maerad's grave blue eyes, and his heart twisted in his chest with horror, trying to leap up and sink at the same time.

"Goodmorninghowareyou?" he babbled instantly.

She looked awkward, and a little confused, and he had probably not helped one bit with that rambling splutter.

He wished he knew how much she remembered.

"Good morning," she said. Her voice sounded a mite uncertain, but not embarrassed – maybe she didn't remember anything after all. Cadvan felt his confidence soar and decided to act normally – or as normally as he could when his stomach was turning over at a rate of knots.

"Breakfast," he said, gesturing to the table, then looked back down at his mushrooms, which seemed to grin smugly up at him, telling him he wasn't fooling anybody.

He glanced away from them in time to see Maerad taking her place opposite him and staring with empty eyes at the mostly untouched food before her.

"I'm not really hungry," she said vacantly. Now that she was closer to him, he could see dark rings circling under her eyes and lines of exhaustion around her sombre mouth, and his nausea doubled.

"Why not?" he asked, trying to sound casual, and biting into a bread roll, which he promptly had troubled swallowing when she said,

"I had…strange dreams."

He turned away from her, coughing, to take a large gulp of water, panic charging through him. _Strange dreams? Strange _dreams_? Don't worry, don't worry. Probably just Arkan…_

_Just _Arkan…?

She stirred and looked up at him with a sudden intensity in her sapphire eyes.

"Cadvan…why did I wake up in your bed this morning?"

It sounded a thousand times worse when said aloud, and in her quiet, determined voice. He felt the heat rising to his face and fought it down, forcing himself to meet her steady gaze.

"You were sleepwalking," he said – absolutely honestly, he thought to himself. Her eyes widened in genuine surprise.

"Me? Really?"

"Yes – you – " He didn't want to mention how he had woken to find her lips hovering mere inches from his. "You knocked on the door and walked in. I didn't wake you – I knew it was unsafe. So I just…let you stay."

He realised his hands were trembling on the tabletop. He dropped them hastily into his lap, but luckily Maerad didn't notice, her eyes were faraway and her cheeks were going pink.

"It must have been the dreams," she murmured.

Cadvan could only manage a croak of agreement; she shot him another quick look.

"I didn't – say anything – did I?"

Her pink flush had transformed into a fully fledged crimson blush. Cadvan pretended not to notice, though he would have had to be blind not to.

"Nothing very…understandable. You weren't making a lot of sense."

_Neither was I,_ he thought grimly. _We both weren't in our right minds._

"Oh." She appeared to relax slightly, her glowing face paling to a normal colour. "Well. Thank you for looking after me, I suppose." She sounded more awkward than grateful, and fiddled with her cutlery nervously.

"That's fine," he said, trying to sound offhand and failing miserably.

There was a nervous silence. Cadvan took one glance at his mushrooms, felt guilt break like a horribly cold wave over his skin, and stood up abruptly.

"I must get on. I have much to do today."

"All right."

"I'll meet you in the afternoon for our lesson." _Which is going to be hell to get through._

"Yes."

He couldn't stop himself adding, in a sincerely caring tone which he could do nothing to disguise,

"Try to eat something."

For a moment the tension subsided slightly, and she glanced up at him with a brief warmth in her gaze.

"I'll try."

He mustered up a crooked smile, and ran for it like a condemned man totally convinced of his own guilt.

Maerad sat and stared at the plate of mushrooms he had left untouched and frowned. Evidently someone else wasn't hungry this morning either.

* * *

_Absolute bloody hell._

Cadvan blew out the candles around the bedroom, conjured up a magelight and sat heavily on his bed, wrapped in a full cloak of misery.

_The day was a total disaster. A – total – bloody – disaster, _he added, pummelling his pillow between each word. He had spent the entire day torn between relief that she remembered nothing, guilt that he had told her practically nothing, and desire at his own memory of _everything_. Their lesson had been more tense than an overtwisted lyre string – he awkward because of the truth, she awkward because he was. They both couldn't wait to get away from each other by the end of it.

And now he was back where it all began, in his room, thankfully and horribly alone.

It was all for the good, he thought, extinguishing the magelight and relaxing back into the pillows, his eyes closing of their own accord.

_She must not_ _learn any of it, _he added, drifting away already on the tides of sleep. _No…I must never tell her anything._

It was just an accident, after all.

* * *

He was woken perhaps minutes later, perhaps hours, by a quiet but steady knocking at his door. Fumbling in the covers, he called out instinctively,

"Hello?"

The knocking did not stop. Groaning, he lit a magelight and said a little more clearly,

"Come in."

No one came in. The knocking continued, as steady a beat as the pulse in his neck. He wrestled himself out of bed and walked to the door, rubbing his eyes free of sleep.

He opened the door to find Maerad there, shivering in her nightgown, her hand still upraised as if to knock again on an empty door, her eyes as blank and as glassy as they had been the previous night.

He managed to groan the beginning of, "Oh no, not ag – " but then found his words cut off by her hot lips once again pressing on his, her arms twining securely around his neck.

The beast Cadvan came out to celebrate. The gentleman Cadvan panicked. He found himself reaching around her waist and pulling her into the room, even while he was screaming at himself.

_Stop it! Stop it now!_

But Maerad's mouth was insistent on his, and gave him no room to think – how could he think when she was kissing him so deeply, so strongly, by the _Light_, this was addictive, it really was, he could do this forever…and he _wanted to _dammit, he wanted to and he would. For once, just once, he would do what he wanted…

He pushed the door closed and dimmed his magelight into total darkness, allowing himself to sink into the feel of her – her powerful lips against his, her stream of hair falling past his cheek and down to his collarbone, tickling the nape of his neck, her hands clutching fistfuls of his own hair, and her body…oh…her body pressing so intensely against his…

_I can't, _he thought giddily, guiding her towards the bed as he kissed her. _I can't stop this anymore. I've tried, I've tried, but I have not the strength. Me, Cadvan of Lirigon, one of the greatest Bards ever known, and I don't have even half the strength to stop this –_

_I don't think I even care anymore._

The back of his legs hit the base of the bed; he sank onto the softness of the mattress, carefully pulling her down on top of him, aware of nothing anymore except her, Maerad, her lips on his, her tongue flicking along his, her hair falling softly around their faces, her body pressing so hard on his that he thought he would die with desire. Her hands slid down to rest on his chest; his own hands lingered on her lips, then slipped further down. He was incapable of anything except this silent kissing, this silent touching; now, right now, Cadvan of Lirigon could do nothing but feel.

And then one sentence, unbidden perhaps, or maybe pushed to the forefront of his mind by the weakened gentleman Cadvan, floated into that tiny part of his consciousness that wasn't busy with the kissing of Maerad, or the touching of Maerad, or the loving of Maerad.

_She is thinking of Arkan._

The thought numbed his spine and powered as effectively as cold water through his veins. He froze as if he had been turned into an ice statue by the Winterking himself, and abruptly switched the magelight back on again with a glaring brightness, shifting away from Maerad's kisses and taking her by the shoulders in order to keep her at a safe distance. His hands shook violently on her skin.

She stared uncomprehendingly back at him, her eyes blank in sleep, her face drawn with weariness. He felt the nausea of guilt from that breakfast return ten-fold to him, but looked hard into her glassy gaze. He had to make her understand, or they were both doomed.

"Maerad," he said steadily. "I am not Arkan. I am Cadvan. Can you hear me?"

"I want you," she whispered as she had the night before.

"But I'm not Arkan!" he protested, wishing he knew how to get through to her. "Listen to me, Maerad, I'm not Arkan, I'm not the one you want!"

"I want you," she repeated in the same dead voice, then pressed against his restricting hands, leaning into him. For half a second he wanted to forget everything and pull her back to him again; to bury himself in her touch and the scent of her hair, and the burning of her mouth, bury himself deeper than a dead man inside her, bury himself like the condemned man he already was. But he held himself back. It wasn't fair to take her with him to his waiting hell. It wasn't fair. None of it was fair…

"You can't," he said simply. "You can't have me."

She blinked rapidly, still not understanding. He wished there was some way of waking her without hurting her. He would rather condemn himself in this sin then hurt her.

But then…to condemn himself _would _be to hurt her…just in a different way.

_Either way I lose. Whichever way I step, there lies darkness. What can I do? What can I do? I don't know anymore…_

"You're tired," he suggested desperately. "Aren't you tired?" But his previous trick did not work now. She shook her head slowly.

"Not tired. I want you. I want you, Cadvan."

He stared. She had said his name. _His _name, not Arkan's. She had said…she had said _Cadvan._

"W – what?" he stuttered. His grip on her had loosened in shock.

"I want you, Cadvan," she repeated, and this time he thought he heard more than the vague mumblings of a sleepwalker in her voice – he thought he heard a deeper tone; a yearning, an honesty, a _love._ A truthfulness in her voice, which had not been there before.

She moved to kiss him again, and his resistance melted like snow in a furnace and he once more lost himself in her sleepy desire, letting her use him as he used her.

But it wasn't the same now. His mind was restless now, was questioning now, and refused to let him enjoy his sin. _Arakn or Cadvan? _Which did she want? _Arkan or Cadvan?_ He had to find out. He had to wake her. If only there was a way…

His subconscious moved before his conscious could catch up with it, and he found himself bellowing the answer through mindspeech –

_ELEDNOR!_

The rhythm of her lips on his faltered, then froze, and then he felt and heart a little gasp of air on his lips, and opened his eyes to find her staring down at him, her own blue gaze open, awake, and utterly, utterly shocked.

* * *

_ELEDNOR!_

And suddenly she was jerked out of a strange dark dream full of pleasure and relief and love, and was staring down into Cadvan's dark blue eyes, having just woken to find her mouth on his.

At first, his face was all she could see. Then she realised she was in his bedroom, sprawled on his bed, on _him_ no less, and that she had just that moment before been kissing him as passionately as she had dreamed it those nights before.

For a long while, they lay and stared at one another. Then Maerad heard herself croak,

"What – What – "

"You were asleep," he said hastily, sounding rasp himself, his voice strained and heavy with some odd emotion which she couldn't divine. "You were sleepwalking – I woke you safely – I called your Name – "

"I was _kissing _you!" she exclaimed, unable to stop herself trembling.

He hesitated, then said frankly,

"Yes. You were."

She stared down at him, feeling tears prick the corner of her eyes and her nose burn with the warning of sobs.

"And you were kissing me back."

He swallowed hard, and she finally saw the true guilt in his eyes.

"Yes."

A hot rush – part embarrassment, part horror, part guilt and part something unidentifiable – swept through Maerad like a cloud across a windy sky.

"While I was sleeping."

He was pale with shame.

"Yes."

She took in a shuddering breath.

"Did I do this last night too?"

"Yes."

"And you kissed me back then, you – _touched_ – me then, even though you knew I was asleep."

"Yes."

"Even thought you knew I had no idea what I was doing, you responded anyway, and not just once but _twice._"

He looked stricken, confronted with the full horror of his crime.

"Yes," he whispered.

She nodded, then abruptly pushed herself off him, off the bed, and marched towards the door, her eyes burning with unshed tears. She had just ripped the door open when Cadvan babbled,

"No – wait, _wait_ – don't go – don't go like this, Maerad!"

She froze, then turned back to him despite herself, her nostrils flaring in fury. He was sitting on the end of the bed, hands outstretched, pleading almost.

"Please don't go like this," he said in a strangely calm voice, as if he knew that a panicky voice would only alarm her further. He sounded, she thought suddenly, like a condemned man who has nothing left but to fall. "Let me explain."

"Explain?" she hissed. "Explain why you – " She found the words torture to say, but spat them out fiercely, " – _took advantage of me?_"

"No. No," he answered, still in his calm voice, but with the tinge of one who is about to panic at any moment. "It was not like that Maerad, I wasn't – I was trying to protect you."

"_Protect _me? Oh yes, Cadvan, it really looked like that!"

"_I know you weren't dreaming of me!_" He was almost shouting now, and she briefly saw her own anger reflected in his eyes. "I know you weren't thinking of me, I know you weren't dreaming of me, I know you were thinking of _Arkan!_"

The last word tore itself from his lips and rang through the room, shaking Maerad so much that she momentarily forgot to be angry.

"What?" she murmured.

"You said his name," he retorted bitterly. "_That's _what you said last night, Maerad – you said 'Arkan'. So no, I did not take advantage of you. I did not take advantage of you because I knew that it was not me you wanted, I knew it was _him_."

His face and tone of voice were both so poisonous that Maerad was at a complete loss. She remembered her dreams – both the night before and tonight – and remembered how she had shouted 'Arkan'…but not in desire, in anger.

"But you were kissing me now," she whispered. He glanced at her, and this time she saw desire and fear and tenderness mixed with his bitterness.

"I couldn't resist you," he said flatly. "The Light knows I tried Maerad, but I couldn't do it, I couldn't resist you. I have shamed myself and sickened myself, and I deserve your fury. I deserve it if you decide never to speak to me again. I deserve it if you decide never to see me again. I deserve every punishment you inflict on me Maerad, I have failed you. I have failed you."

Maerad could say nothing to this. She watched him, the broken, condemned man, sitting on the end of the bed, his face dark and downcast, bowed and waiting for her judgement. But she had no fury anymore – it had faded like the light of a candle before the sun. It was no longer needed.

It was her fault as well, not just his. She had dreamed about it. She had made it happen. It had been _her_ subconscious, _her_ unspoken desires, which had led to this.

_How ridiculous, _she thought now, wearily. How ridiculous they had both been. Here she had been, fast asleep, and dreaming of the situation that he in all reality had been faced with!

In her dreams he had kissed her with tenderness, he had touched her with softness. He had been a gentleman even as he burned with desire for her, and he had condemned himself for it, racking himself with guilt, taking on all the blame even through part of it was hers, believing he had failed her…and all because he dared to indulge in his love for her.

A love, she reminded herself, that she never gave him a chance to show in their waking hours.

"You could never fail me," she whispered, and was surprised to hear a catch in her voice. The tears of fury had melted into tears of empathy now, and they were harder to keep at bay.

He glanced up at her, confused, and she took in a deep breath and told him it all.

"I never longed for Arkan, Cadvan. Not in my dreams, not in real life – not anymore. I dreamed that it was _you _I was kissing, Cadvan. And then Arkan appeared and tried to keep me, and so I shouted his name. In anger, Cadvan. Not in desire. Never in desire." She let out a small sigh, as if expelling something that she had been keeping hidden away for a long time – for too long a time. "It was you, Cadvan," she said. "It was always you. I was always kissing you. And I don't want you to feel guilty over something as – as _magnificent_ – as loving me. I'm _glad_ you love me, do you understand? I'm glad you looked after me, I'm glad you care so much for me, and I'm glad – I'm more than glad – that you kissed me back."

Cadvan was staring at her, open-mouthed, as if he couldn't quite believe what he was hearing.

"But I could have – I could have – gone too far – "

"Really?" Her gaze was level, her voice frank and direct. "Do you really think you would have gone as far as to have me fully?"

Cadvan blinked, suddenly knowing the answer now that he had been properly faced with the question.

"No, he murmured thoughtfully. "No, I suppose not. I would have stopped myself. It wouldn't have seemed – right."

"I'm glad you went as far as you did," she murmured shyly.

"You're glad?" he croaked.

"More than glad," she affirmed. "Ecstatic. Because – because I love you too, I really do, and if you were doing it out of love, and not out of curtesy or awkwardness, then I am glad, so glad, that you did."

"Oh, I did it out of love, Maerad," he said quietly.

She flashed him a tentative half-smile, her heart constricting at his words.

"Then there's no need for you to feel guilty."

"Even though I did it to you whilst you were asleep…"

"Oh." Her smile turned flirtatious. "You could do it to me any time, Cadvan."

He looked like a man who had just been pardoned from the gallows. He stood up and was standing before her in one fluid motion, his hands once more reaching for her waist.

"I shall hold you to that, Maerad of Pellinor," he said firmly, and then leaned down and found her lips, and kissed her deeply as the magelight once more flickered into silken, comfortable darkness.

* * *

The next morning, Cadvan devoured every mushroom that had the misfortune to end up on his plate.

The End

**Hooray! So…I hope you liked it! And I hope it wasn't TOO corny for you! (Sometimes I think I should be writing Mills and Boon). Please review if you read, reviews are like food for me! Don't let me starve! :)**


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